Chapter 4

There was nothing on the news. No mention of his work. He flicked through every newspaper, scanned every headline, every photograph. Nothing. The deadlines had been too late. Tomorrow, perhaps. His Korean was not strong enough for full comprehension, but he knew enough words to see he had been ignored. And the photographs told him everything. Not one showed the outcome of last night’s effort.

He had known they would try to suppress it. The start of this journey, momentous to him, would be baffling and embarrassing to them. They would keep his audience blind as long as they could. But not for long. He would make them see. He would make her see. He would lay her sins before her and make her world suffer for what she had done.

For now, he would savour obscurity. In the shadows he had freedom to work again. Apathy was his smokescreen. His mind was already moving to the next act. He would use the rain again. Rain sent people indoors. Rain put heads under umbrellas.

He turned to the back page. A cold front. Rain was arriving Friday night. Soon it would be time. He would buy the gloves.

Boy 1: “What are you doing there? Probably not the best place to sit.”

Red: “Sit down.”

Boy 1: “There are footprints here — these jeans were clean. But fine. You all right? How much did you drink?”

Red: “Come here.”

Boy 1: “What was that for?”

Red: “You’re sweet.”

Boy 1: “You’re drunk.”

Red: “That’s your fault.”

Boy 1: “Seven tequilas weren’t my idea.”

Red: “You waved your credit card at me.”

Boy 1: “Gestured. I gestured.”

Red: “Whatever. Come here. I want to kiss you again.”

Boy 1: “Did you throw up in there?”

Red: “I had a lot of beer.”

Boy 1: “You did. You need water.”

Red: “I want to brush my teeth. Get the taste out.”

Boy 1: “I can get you a toothbrush. They sell them at the convenience store with little tubes of toothpaste. And water. No stone unturned.”

Red: “You’re sweet.”

Boy 1: “Sit tight. I’ll be right back.”